


Not Again

by Writing-Rammstein (writingfanfic)



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Blood, Fights, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-28 00:18:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13892208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Rammstein
Summary: For the prompt: 'Fic were Richard and Till have a big fight?'I think I have a bit of a thing for Paul getting covered in blood...





	Not Again

“<What the fuck?>”

Christoph stopped in the doorway, and Ollie looked at him, arms folded.

“<Practise started at 3:00,>” he said, sharply. “<Thanks for showing.>” Paul looked up from the chair, and waved, holding the tissue to his mouth - Christoph’s eyes widened as he saw the blood on his nose, and Ollie shook his head.

“<It’s them, isn’t it,>” he said bleakly, throwing his rucksack onto the chairs, and Ollie nodded.

“<Flake’s in there, right now, trying to deal with it.>” He gestured to Paul, who flinched away from the sudden movement. “<Richard. He fucking Haifisch’d him. It was almost ironic.>”

“<I’m fine. Schneider, they’ll listen to you,>” Paul began, and Christoph raised an eyebrow. “<Fine, then they’ll punch you in the face too and I could not give a shit.>” He looked up at Ollie. “<I think Richard broke my nose.>”

“<You can afford plastic surgery,>” Ollie advised, and Christoph made his way down the hallway. He could hear yelling - mostly from Richard. When Richard got angry, he yelled. When Till got angry, he _roared_.

“< _You fucking megalomaniac piece of shit-!_ >”

Christoph started power-walking, and pushed through the doors to find chaos, or as close to chaos as he thought he’d never have to get again after they wrapped up _Mutter_.

Till was standing on one side of the room, teeth bared, general stance and posture suggesting he was midway through Hulking out, and Richard was on the other side, hackles raised, snapping something that Christoph almost couldn’t understand, it was so garbled and angry. Here and there he picked up _scheiße_ and _streng_ and a lot of curse-words in English. Richard always had liked to learn the important words.

In between them, Flake was standing, looking equal parts terrified and furious, and with blood smeared on his face. It wasn’t entirely clear whose blood it was.

“<What the fuck is going on?!>” Christoph snapped, and it was almost as if they’d had buckets of water thrown onto them - they both turned, staring at him, and Richard pointed the finger like a younger sibling caught mid-fight.

“<Can you believe this fucker?>” he laughed, almost disbelievingly, and Till stepped forward; Flake stood his ground, shaking his head, and Till stopped, glaring at Richard. “<Can you believe how stubborn this fucker is? How prepared he is, to make the big decisions, without consulting->”

“<I can’t consult you if you don’t answer my phone calls, you prick,>” Till growled. “<All the others managed to, so you got outvoted, despite the prior fucking warning->”

“<As if my opinion _matters_ , I should’ve quit this band when I had the chance,>” Richard snarled, and Till went for him again; Flake braced himself, but this time, Christoph got between them, and pushed Till back. It wasn’t easy - in fact, he more sort of bounced himself backwards, but Till went to duck around him and he grabbed him, hauling him back against the wall. Till struggled for a moment, and Christoph used his weight against him, hauling him into the corner. _Ah, that army training_ , he thought, for a moment. _Not entirely useless._

“<Get a grip on yourself,>” he snapped, and turned around - over in the corner, Flake had Richard pinned. He had never appreciated quite how impressive Flake’s height was until then - the man normally never made use of it. “<What the fuck is this about?>” He saw Richard struggle out of Flake’s grip, and raise a finger, eyes wide.

“<You’re a _motherfucker_ , Till->”

Flake had clearly had enough - he didn’t even punch Richard, which Richard, probably, would’ve deserved, but slapped him, open-handed, across the face. Christoph was impressed. A punch would’ve started the whole thing again, but that slap stopped Richard dead - his mouth flopped open in shock, and Till rocked back on his heels.

“<Get him out,>” Christoph said, and Flake marched Richard out like a naughty school-child. “<Till, Jesus Christ, what was->”

“<I am sick of his condescending attitude. If he wants to fuck off to New York and wank off over Emigrate, that’s _his_ deal, but I won’t be talked to as if that phone conversation was my idea, it wasn’t my idea, he’s a piece of shit-! >”

“<Shut the fuck up. You’re both behaving like kids.>” Christoph shook his head. “<Who hit Flake?>” Till looked so ashamed in that moment that Christoph knew who had, and closed his eyes. “<You complete cunt.>” Till looked almost astonished at Christoph’s language, and Christoph pushed him back against the wall. “<For god’s sake. Didn’t we leave this behind?>”

“<Apparently no, he’s still here,>” Till snapped, and shook his head. “<You didn’t even turn up, Schneider, so fuck you, fuck you, you’re not our father, you can’t just…>”

“<Then stop being a child!>” Christoph snapped. “<Stop acting like a petty little fuck. I thought you two were _best friends_?! >” His sarcasm apparently was the last thing needed to punch through Till’s armour, because the lead singer looked at his feet ashamedly. “<For god’s sake. I can’t go through this again. Are you sure you can?>”

“<I don’t want to! I just… he started it…>” Till looked up again. “<I didn’t mean to punch Flake. He just… got in the way.>” He shook his head. “<I’m sorry.>”

“<What the fuck are you apologising to me for? I just got here and had to pin you to a wall.>” Christoph nodded to the door. “<Apologise to Flake. Maybe let him kick you in the balls. You deserve it.>” Till nodded, and Christoph gestured to the door. “<Go!>”

Till sighed, and Christoph decided not to try his luck in hauling him out - luckily, he strode out, shoulders hunched, and Christoph followed.

Back in the kitchenette, Paul had managed to stop his nosebleed, and was staring, face crusted with blood, in fascination as Flake was verbally laying into Richard with every inch of rage in his skinny body. Till stopped in the doorway, and Ollie nodded.

“<Oh good, Dad’s here. Now, me and your father are really ashamed of your behaviour,>” he said, and Till glared at him; he put his hands up, and Richard glared up at Till.

“Asshole,” he muttered.

“<Richard, shut the fuck up,>” Christoph snapped, and Richard did so, sourly. “<Now, we’ve been through this before. We should be able to talk this out.>” Richard rolled his eyes. “<I don’t want you to do it here, I don’t give a shit, you can do that on your own time.>”

“< _Dad’s really angry_ ,>” Ollie whispered, and was ignored.

“<Just apologise and we’ll get on with it.>” Christoph looked between them. “<‘It’ presumably being letting Paul go home and get changed out of his clothes and cleaned up?>”

“<I’m alarmed by how not alarmed I am, really,>” Paul said, and was also ignored.

“<Why should I apologise?>” Richard and Till both said at the same time, and then glared at each other again, and Christoph sighed, leaning in.

“<If you don’t want to, then fuck off and stop wasting our time.>”

Flake spoke from where he was standing, arms folded, and Christoph looked up at him in surprise.

“<But if we’re doing this all over again, I’m out.>”

“<Me too,>” Christoph said, after a moment.

“<Me as well,>” Paul said, through a tissue.

Ollie silently raised his hand, and Till and Richard looked at each other.

“<Now, shake each other’s hands, like men, and stop being pathetic,>” Christoph snapped, and Richard glared at Till; it was clear the fight had leached out of him, and he looked around.

“<Don’t act like you’re outnumbered. We think you’re both dickheads.>” Flake’s voice was bitter now, and Richard huffed.

“<I thought we’d fixed this. I thought I was going to be included if I did my part, if I agreed we were a democracy, I’d actually get to be a part of it,>” he said, harshly, and Till put his head in his hands. “<Don’t you be a fucking martyr, Lindemann. I was busy for one night->”

“<We had to decide quickly. If it could have waited, it would have, but it couldn’t, and didn’t,>” Till said, simply, and Richard huffed.

 “<So we just do it anyway?! Without even waiting for half an hour. You tried to call me twice, within five minutes.>” He leaned in, and everyone else leaned in to try and stop Till. “<Good best friend that you->”

“<I had the agent on _hold_ , it was an urgent call-around, I messaged you, I tried!>” Till snarled, and Flake slammed his hand on the table.

“<Did you go deaf when Schneider spoke? He said talk this out outside. You can apologise in here, and we can go.>”

There was a moment of silence, and then Till extended his hand. Richard looked at it, and then swallowed.

“<And now you all want me to take it?>” he asked, and his voice cracked. “<You want me to accept that because, and it’s not even because I want to be in charge this time, I don’t even want to make the decisions, I just want to be involved, you want me to just…>”

“<Richard, shake my hand and we’ll go for a fucking coffee and sort this out,>” Till said, and Richard looked at him. Christoph noticed, very uncomfortably, that there were angry, pettish tears in his eyes, and Till sighed. “<Please.>”

Richard reached over, and took his hand, and Till pulled him in close; nobody in that room would ever swear to hearing Richard sob, but then again, everyone in that room just wanted that moment to be over.

“<Okay. I want to go home and make sure you didn’t knock my tooth out.>” Flake bared his teeth. “<Am I missing anything?>”

“<Personality,>” Ollie said quickly, and Paul looked down at the trail of blood going from his nose to his mid-stomach.

“<This would look pretty cool on-stage,>” he said thoughtfully, and Richard looked up, eyes red-rimmed. “<Rich, can you do it again? Not right now, of course.>” Richard gave a watery smile after a moment, and Till clapped him on the back.

“<I’m sorry,>” Christoph heard him say quietly, and a smile crossed his face - it only widened when he heard Richard give it back, and shook his head.

“<So I hauled my ass here for nothing?>” he joked, and Till seesawed his hand. “<For fuck’s sake…>”


End file.
